


"close your eyes and hold out your hands."

by clickingkeyboards



Series: one hundred ways to say 'i love you' [33]
Category: Murder Most Unladylike Series - Robin Stevens
Genre: Daisy is a romantic dork, F/F, Hazel is an avid reader, M/M, Proposals, Sherlock Holmes books
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:35:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21705319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clickingkeyboards/pseuds/clickingkeyboards
Summary: A textbook proposal.Canon EraWritten for the thirty-third prompt in the '100 ways to say "I love you"' prompt list by p0ck3tf0x on Tumblr.
Relationships: Alexander Arcady/George Mukherjee, Daisy Wells/Hazel Wong
Series: one hundred ways to say 'i love you' [33]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1533164
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	"close your eyes and hold out your hands."

“HAZEL!”

Oh no. I set down my book and look up to Daisy standing in the doorway and holding a box. “Is it a bomb?” I ask, reaching out for it. “Will it explode if I shake it?”

“That was  _ one time _ , you annoyance!” she says, handing me the box with a flourish. “I promise that this will not explode!”

“I do not believe you in the slightest,” I tell her as I open up the box of malleable card to see it stuffed with tissue. “Oh…”

“Move the tissue, Watson,” she says in an irritable tone, though there is an anxious quality to her voice that confuses me. 

I open the book and inside is… an old-looking copy of Sherlock Holmes. “Oh! Thank you, Daisy!”

With a smile, she says, “Enjoy it, Watson.”

* * *

It takes me weeks to trawl through the leather-bound copy of  _ The Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes _ . I pick it up the instant I had a free moment to the point that the investigator at one crime scene begins referring to me as ‘the reader’. Despite my staunch opposition to the idea of such a common book series, it has me riveted down to the last word on every page, reading between the lines and attacking the pages with the newfangled Biro pen that Alexander gave me.

One evening, Daisy is working late on a case that I dutifully opted out of (because the body was dismembered into tiny pieces, no thank you) and I’m in Alexander and George’s flat. Alexander and George are sitting on the sofa, Alexander half-asleep against George’s chest while he quotes lines from  _ Prejudice and Prejudice _ . 

That is until Alexander says, “Hazel, how far are you from the end of the book?”

“Thirty pages or so, why?”

He shrugs. “Just wondering. George, you said that you would call Daisy.”

I check my wristwatch and it is seven on-the-dot, which makes perfect sense to me. George often calls us at crime scenes on the hour to see how we’re doing. Satisfied, I sink back into my book. When I am only two pages from the end,  _ Daisy _ walks through the door. “Hallo, boys!” she says, kissing George on the cheek and shaking Alexander’s hand. “Hazel!”

She sweeps over to me and pries my hand from where it is gripping the firm back cover, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. “Go away, I’m almost done,” I tell her in greeting, snatching back my hand.

She sits beside me in silence as I trawl through the last two pages, rubbing a thumb over where my shoulder is tensed up with anticipation. I notice Alexander and George leave the room, towards where their bedroom is. I pay it no mind.

When I finish the book, my hand resting on the one blank page before the back cover, I sigh and lean back. My finger traces up and down the page… and bumps something hard through the back cover. With a start, I snap out of contemplation and turn over the last page to be greeted by a small hole that has been cut into the back cover painstakingly. To encompass… a ring.

Inside the hole is an illustrious golden band, thin with a… a daisy crafted from diamonds, a jade marking out the very centre of the flower.

“Daisy…”

She reaches forward and grabs it. “Don’t interrupt me, Watson,” she says as she drops to one knee. “Hazel Wong, I’ve been by your side since we were thirteen, wriggling into cupboards and getting into trunks, coughing dust, gashing knees, and holding hands in the way all good schoolgirls do. When we were thirteen, you began mooning after Alexander and I hardly knew what to think. George joked that he wished he could be there to watch me fall in love, unaware that he was watching it that very moment as I stared at you simpering at Alexander in that sickly girlish way you always used to.”

“Daisy!”

“Shut up, I’m not done. Then we were in Egypt, and… and the boys happened, and you told me… you told me that you were like me. That you  _ liked  _ me. Oh, Hazel, I thought that I might die. I could have flown then, I was so  _ happy _ . And I’ve been just as happy ever since. Hazel Wong, you are the closest thing I have to a heart and the nearest thing I have to a home. So, Hazel Wong, will you marry me?”

I think I could explode.

"YES!" I shriek, and fling myself into her arms.

"It went well, Daisy dear?" George's voice drifts down the hall.

I look up and there are tears on her cheeks, and her blonde hair is hanging down over her face. "Yes. Yes, it went well."


End file.
